I am going after him
by rudeandpossiblyginger
Summary: John can't stand it anymore. He needs to see his best friend again. And he will do what ever it takes.
1. Chapter 1

He jerks up in a cold sweat. Again, another nightmare. In the last three years he hasn't had one night of restful sleep. Yet, he doesn't take the pills the doctor gave him, because it's the only time he gets to see his friends face. Even if that means replaying his death over and over again.

After lying awake for hours, John gets out of bed to get breakfast, some bitter, black coffee and an apple, both which are left untouched. He paces the floor, acting like he is trying to decide something, when in reality, he already has months ago.

John quickly packed up his laptop and threw on his coat over his jumper. He then gently lifted his scarf off the coat rack and pats the skull goodbye. He then headed off to the cemetery.

He had rushed almost the whole way there. He hadn't gotten a taxi. He never had really trusted cabbies after the study in pink, and didn't have enough money anyway. That's why he didn't live in flat 221B Baker Street anymore either. He just couldn't afford it. It was filled with too many memories anyway.

Once he reached the headstone, he slowed, and then finally stopped and knelt down to touch the smooth surface. A tear fell down. "Won't be long." He said. Weather it was to the headstone or himself, no one really knew. Perhaps both.

Thirty minutes later, John was walking towards a hospital building. he makes sure he avoids stepping on the stain of blood on the sidewalk, and enters the building. He walks with confidence, and few question him and why he was there. Others he just showed them a card that was "borrowed" and never returned.

Alone on the roof, John walks over to the edge and looks down. He wondered if it was like flying, how it felt when you rushed through the air. If it hurt when you hit the pavement. Did you go through pain? Or did you die immediately? He took a deep breath...


	2. Chapter 2

No, not yet. He sat down in the middle of the roof and opened his laptop. He quickly opened his blog that he hadn't checked in years. He began typing.

"I am on the rooftop. The same rooftop that Sherlock stood on on the worst day of my life. i think you can see were this is going.

I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore. For the last three years it has been hell. I use a cane again, the tremor in my hand has returned, and I have nightmares of the place I am at now. I miss you Sherlock. All the crazy experiments, and the violin at night. The excitement, and even you throwing those manchild fits. All of it. I want it all back.

You helped me in so many ways, and now you're gone, and I can't stand it.

I'm going after him. My best friend is gone, and I am following.

So to you all who haven't caught on yet, this is my note. That's what people do when doing something like this? Leave a note?"

John then set the computer down and walked to the edge of the building. He looked down once more. Then, He took a deep breath, got on the ledge, closed his eyes and spread his arms out, feeling the wind blow around him. He felt his body start to fall forward...


	3. Chapter 3

Only to be suddenly roughly jerked back by his coat collar. A strong arm then wrapped around his middle and pulled him to the middle of the roof, John fighting the whole way.

"You don't understand, I have to do this, I can't go on anymore without him. Let me go!" John cryed out, kicking and hitting, and starting to sob. "Please, I cant do this anymore."

The stranger then released him. John landed in the middle of the buildings roof, curled up in a ball, sobbing.

As he layed there crying, he relized the man that had saved him was siting next to him. And he was crying too.

"I missed you too John."

John sat up and looked into the yes of Sherlock Holmes, a man who was suposto be dead.

"Your-your not dead!"

"You were going to jump after me."

By this time John was in tears again. "Why?! Why did you do this?! And why didn't you tell me that you didn't really die? Do you not trust me? Why?" He started swinging at his flat mate, but sherlock caught his fists befor they could make contact with his face. John started sobbing again. _"why?" _John said, wispering as tears still ran down his face. He then melted on the hospital rooftop.

"Oh John. John. Im-" silent tears were runing down Sherlocks face. "I'm so sorry." He then scooped up his friend and rocked back and forth. "I won't leave you ever again. I promise. Never again.

**Well, the story is over! Yay/sadness? I hope you enjoyed it. this was my first atempt at fanfiction, and I think it went pretty well. :) Thank-you to those of you who followed, favorited, and revewed! Follow me for more storys about Sherlock, and even some about Doctor Who!**

**Oh, and feel free to revew and let me know how you liked it, and tell me about any mistakes I may have made! Thanks!**


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